Reunion
by Asynca
Summary: Jarod hasn't been part of night elf civilisation in thousands of years. He's only returning now because of the very recent death of his wife, Shalasyr. Shandris, who hasn't seen him in a lifetime, comes to pay her respects and visit someone she once loved. This is a re-write of the same scene from the official novel 'Wolfheart' as I was unhappy with it in the book. Friendship only!


I wasn't happy with Shandris and Jarod's reunion in the official book 'Wolfheart'; I wanted more maturity and comradeship. So I wrote it :3

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With the cloth swaddled around Shalasyr's still body, it was as if she only slept. Jarod knelt beside the table and rested his chin against the cool marble; like this, it almost felt as though they were just dozing in bed together. He'd be awake, of course. There was always something to worry about.

He smiled a little, thinking on that. "Do you remember our first house?" he asked her, gently touching her pale cheek. "I thought it would fall down in a day. For months, every time we lay in bed I would kept jolting awake worrying at any moment that shaky roof would come crashing down on us as we slept. When it rained, I was sure we'd awaken floating down the river."

He'd hated every branch of that infernal house at the time and longed to leave it. Now… Now, he'd give _anything _to be floating down a river on his bed with her. He wouldn't even mind the roof cashing down. If only they'd _stayed _in that house. If only they hadn't—

There was someone else in the chamber.

He sat up from the table and looked sharply over his shoulder, unsure whether to stand up.

He didn't need to. It was Shandris—heavens above, it had been so long since he'd seen her!—and by her stance, she'd been there for some time.

She looked just the same as he remembered; at least, what he could see of her did. Her sentinel armour wasn't traditional and put absolutely no part of her on display. In fact, with her helmet respectfully under her arm, only her face was visible. She might as well have left the helmet on, though: just as Jarod remembered her, she was completely unreadable.

She shifted her weight between her feet a little uncomfortably. "Sorry, I—" she began, and then appeared to change her mind. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

He wondered what she'd been about to say, but nodded once, anyway. "Thank you, Shandris." It was the first time he'd said that name in thousands of years, and it felt oddly nostalgic on his tongue. "It's been a long time."

She nodded slowly. "It certainly has." There was weight in her words. "I wish we'd reunited under happier circumstances." She took a few measured steps toward him to look upon Shalasyr as she was laid out to rest. Jarod watched her consider his lovely wife for the first time, and wondered what she was thinking. Eventually, she spoke. "I'm told she was a beautiful person."

Jarod felt the lump return to his throat. 'Beautiful' hardly described her. "She was everything you heard and more."

Shandris must have noticed him struggling, because she took a step away and said nothing more. She didn't leave, though. Jarod found himself thankful for that—he remembered enjoying her company, once. She'd certainly enjoyed his company before. On reflection, she'd probably enjoyed it far too much.

It stuck him as such a strange scene, suddenly—his lovely wife laid out to rest in the Temple of Elune, and the woman who'd once wished to be his wife very much alive beside him.

He wondered if she was thinking the same odd thoughts he was. As he had nothing else to lose, he looked over his shoulder at her, giving her a gentle smile. "I imagine at this moment you're rather glad you didn't end up as my wife."

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. She spend some time digesting what he'd said, and then her stoicism cracked into a rare, broad smile. She chuckled, and her shoulders finally relaxed. "Forgive me for saying so, but once upon a time I would still have traded places with her, despite her fate."

_That _was unexpected. "You'd choose this fate?"

She inclined her head. "Well," she said at length, "my logic would have been that she was able to spend thousands of years with you first."

Jarod sat back on his heels for a moment, reeling a little. He was comforted by her choice of tense, but—it was still difficult for him to hear. Shandris and he had been worlds apart, even from the beginning. She'd been High Priest Tyrande's adopted daughter, a frighteningly talented archer rising through the ranks of the Sentinels, and he wanted nothing more than to leave everyone and retreat deep into the forest's embrace after the war ended. Shalasyr had shared his love of peace and tranquillity; it was what had united them.

As if reading his thoughts, Shandris murmured. "I know it never would have worked between us."

It was a relief to hear her say that. "It wouldn't have," he agreed. "You're General of the Sentinel Army, and I belong in the forest." He exhaled, remembering their early friendship. Well, he conceded, there had been other issues, too. "You were also _very_ young."

She scoffed. "I was old enough!"

"You were old enough to drink with me, yes," he said. "That's all."

She gave him a hard stare, but there was humour in it. "I would have punched you for saying that."

He chuckled. "And you would have knocked me out cold, but I still wouldn't have done anything more than drink with you." He flashed her a smile.

She returned it, and they stood there are a moment, smiling at each other. It had been so very long since they'd done that, and the nostalgia of it was deeply comforting to Jarod. Right now, he felt he could use all the comfort he could get.

When their smiled faded, Shandris took a few steps forward and put a warm hand on his shoulder. "It's so good to see you again," she said, speaking his thoughts aloud. "And I know I'm not Shalasyr, but I'm here for you. If you need to talk, I'll listen."

Hearing her speak without bitterness or malice was so unexpected, and at that moment, with his beautiful, wonderful, beloved wife now gone from this world and walking with Elune, he was so very grateful to Shandris for not being angry about Shalasyr. He was so very gratefulthat she'd come to pay her respects to him, despite the fact he'd turned her down so many years ago. She'd come to visit him, she'd opened up to him, and she was here with him, smiling, joking—just when he needed her to be and despite everything that had passed between them.

Shalasyr might be gone, but he wasn't alone. Realising that, he found his sore eyes still had some tears left after all. Blinking them away, he lay his hand over Shandris's.

They stood there in easy silence for some time, keeping vigil over Shalasyr's body while Jarod wept for his beautiful wife and grieved the life they'd built together.


End file.
